


permanent

by levitationist (orphan_account)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, American Football, M/M, Tattoos, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/levitationist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baekhyun doesn’t like the word “permanent”. He doesn’t like the way it sounds, what it means, or the consequences that come with it. Chanyeol, the embodiment of permanence, seems to be the exception. (pt. 1 of the permanent collection.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	permanent

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of these tweets:[1](https://twitter.com/Chanbaek_17/status/616583359620186112)[ 2](https://twitter.com/carpexodiem/status/616447538024071168)[ 3](https://twitter.com/carpexodiem/status/616446635439181825)[ 4](https://twitter.com/luharies/status/616447877825593344)

Chanyeol looks like he’s writing down the formulas from the chalkboard word for word, except for the fact that he’s in the very last row of the lecture hall and hasn’t looked up for the past half an hour. He lounges with his long legs thrown over the seat in front of him, the sleeves of his button-up rolled to the elbows, exposing the inky marks running over his forearms, and head bobbing to the beat of the music coming out of one earbud.

He’s intently sketching out a design in the margins of his sparse notes—one that’s been appearing on his napkins and textbook corners for the past few months. It’s for the boy that’s currently trying his hardest not to fall asleep directly in front of the professor.

Baekhyun sits in the second row, awkwardly twisted to accommodate the left-handed desk that he had chosen to be closer to the door. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open as the professor drones on and on about ‘ _Gauss’s law for a magnetic dipole_ ’ and ‘ _flux density and field derived from the electrical potential_ ’.

Chanyeol chuckles quietly when Baekhyun’s elbow slips from the desk, head lolling forward until he blinks awake just before his nose hits his unopened notebook.

 _tsk tsk, dozing off before the big game? naughty boy_. Chanyeol smirks as he sends the message. He turns back to his doodle and sighs quietly before starting over on the back of the page when the line comes out too shaky.

His phone buzzes loudly against the desk but he’s too far back for the professor to notice. _and whose fault is that? asshat._

_definitely not mine. and besides, i didn’t hear any complaining so…_

He can see Baekhyun’s fingers quickly tap over the keyboard in what is probably an attempt at a lame retort, but the bell rings loudly, prompting Baekhyun to shove everything into his bag and slide into the aisle. He jogs quickly down the stairs and slips out the door before anyone else has packed up their books. Even when he’s almost too sleepy to function, the kid is still graceful.

 

///

 

They'd met about a year ago at the tattoo parlor Chanyeol works at part time. "Name's Chanyeol and I'll be doing your tattoo today,” he’d said as Baekhyun walked in, hair adorably fluffy from the hood he’d just pulled off his head. Chanyeol had leaned against the counter and grinned at him. “What'll it be, short stuff?"

Baekhyun had frowned for a moment, then smiled back just as brightly. "It’s not for me.” He had tugged forward a lanky pink-haired teenager with his lip between his teeth. “It’s for Sehun,” Baekhyun had said, pushing the skinny boy forward.

Chanyeol had grinned and gestured to the chair. “Well, Sehun, know what you want?” Sehun had mumbled something and slid one arm out of his jacket. He had wanted some sort of chinese inscription that Chanyeol can’t remember now.

Chanyeol had glanced to the side as he prepped the pale surface of Sehun’s arm to see Baekhyun flipping through a book of his own designs. Baekhyun had quickly closed the binder and taken a seat next to Sehun, holding the boy’s hand as he winced, though Chanyeol tried his best to be gentle.

“All done!” Chanyeol had exclaimed, gently patting down the bandage on Sehun’s arms. When Baekhyun had taken out his wallet, Chanyeol had shaken his head. “It’s on the house.” Baekhyun’s eyebrows had went up in puzzlement.

“Why—”

“As long as you give me your number,” Chanyeol had requested with a wink. Baekhyun had grinned and grabbed a stray sharpie off the counter before pulling Chanyeol’s arm towards him and writing the string of numbers along the edge of one of his many tattoos, adding heart at the end.

Chanyeol hadn’t even waited five minutes after they had left to send Baekhyun a text message for dinner.

 

///

 

Chanyeol takes his time walking back to his apartment after class, with the soft keys of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata playing through his earbuds (his acquired taste for classical music is Baekhyun’s influence), and opts to keep his penny-board tucked under his arm. He stops at the convenience store on the corner of his street to buy a bag of sour gummy bears—Baekhyun’s favorite. It’s for after the game, when Baekhyun’s exhausted and either blissful from winning or sulky from losing, though the latter doesn’t happen often.

His phone buzzes as he unlocks the door of his flat and tosses the candy onto his kitchen counter. _you’re coming tonight. right?_ Chanyeol snorts and fills up his cup with tap water, gulping it down before responding. He’s never missed a game.

 _nah, i have better things to do_. He makes a beeline for his bedroom and trips over a pile of Baekhyun’s shit, landing with a grunt on his equally Baekhyun-filled bed.

Baekhyun prefers Chanyeol’s apartment to the crowded and smelly athletes’ dorm, often showing up at the door at odd hours of the night after a long practice. Sometimes Chanyeol cooks Baekhyun a midnight snack, or they end up tangled and completely sated in Chanyeol’s sheets, or Baekhyun burrows into Chanyeol’s lap at the small dining table, as Chanyeol tries to explain how to work through an overdue problem set, or they lie in the middle of the floor, staring at the ceiling and talking about anything that comes to their minds.

But Chanyeol is most content when he’s sprawled on his back with a new novel, with soft piano keys and Baekhyun’s distant humming over the sound of the shower in the background. ( _Yeol, no one would guess that such a bad-ass looking guy like you spends all his free time reading books and listening to classical music._ ) ( _Shut up Baek, no one would think that a jock like you loves to play piano and sing. And besides, you’re the one who got me into classical music_ ). Baekhyun will come out of the shower half an hour later, completely relaxed and sleepy, and slide onto Chanyeol’s bed. He’ll flop on top of Chanyeol, tucking his head into the crook of Chanyeol’s neck with his legs on either side of his hips, and lay his hands on Chanyeol’s chest, curling them up to clutch Chanyeol’s shirt between his fingers. Chanyeol will smile and rest his book on Baekhyun’s back with one hand and run the other through Baekhyun’s damp hair. He’ll fall asleep five minutes later with the light still on and Baekhyun’s warm breath ghosting over the tattoo of the koi fish on the side of his neck.

Chanyeol’s many impending homework assignments bring him back to the present as he reaches into his backpack to pull out his biology textbook. He opens to the last dog eared page as his phone vibrates against his ribcage.

 _oh please, what do you have that’s more important than football?? dont be a nerd and actually do your homework. you don’t do your tattoos justice, honestly._ Chanyeol raises and eyebrow and rolls onto his back, accidentally crumpling the pages of some week-old homework assignment—probably Baekhyun’s—in the process. Although it’s true that Baekhyun has never been a fan of anything too permanent, whether it’s tattoos or relationships, Chanyeol seems to be the exception, or so he hopes.

 _oh really? “chanyeol, your tattoos are so fucking hot”; “shit, chanyeol, you’re so sexy.” i can provide more examples if necessary._ Chanyeol tosses the phone onto his pillow and sits up to unbutton his shirt, throwing it somewhere across the room. This leaves him in a thin white t-shirt, but it’s more comfortable considering that Baekhyun had forgotten to turn off the heater this morning after Chanyeol had already left for class.

 _shut up i never said that._ Chanyeol grins. He can almost see Baekhyun’s innocent pouting face over the phone.

 _sure, whatever you say... but you should really see someone about your selective memory loss. and shouldn’t you be warming up or something?_ Chanyeol likes that Baekhyun is risking a scolding from the coach just to talk to him.

_yeah, probably. i’ll see you later._

Ten minutes later, Chanyeol is seven pages into his reading and feeling bored of the electron transport chain. He rubs his eyes and picks up his phone to type another message, hoping Baekhyun will see it amidst the pre-game madness. _i’ll be there, like always._

And after a moment of thought, he sends one more. _good luck <3_

 

///

 

Chanyeol is sitting somewhere on the left side of the stadium, earbuds firmly shoved into his ears and pocket bulging with a pack of sour gummy bears. The ground is shaking from the bass of the pre-game soundtrack as the crowd fills into the stadium, but he can’t hear the lyrics over the sound of his own music. It’s a cover of Chopin’s raindrop prelude in D flat major, Op. 28, that Baekhyun had recorded over summer break and sent to him as an _i really miss you gift_ , which Chanyeol had reciprocated with a guitar cover of Nothin’ on You.

He pulls out his earbuds when everyone on his side of the field starts to cheer, signalling the entrance of the home team, with Baekhyun in front. He’s sprinting out onto the field with his helmet over his head, cheeks streaked with black paint, and thighs looking extremely good in the tight pants. The cheers get louder when he blows a kiss to the stands and chest bumps another guy on the team (Chanyeol thinks it’s Sehun, who has miraculously grown even taller since the tattoo parlor visit).

Chanyeol keeps his eyes on Baekhyun through the whole game, almost giggling in a very unmanly way when Baekhyun wiggles his butt over a good pass. It’s going well for Baekhyun’s team until the final play, when the quarterback executes what seems like a perfect pass to Baekhyun as he sprints down the left side of the field. Baekhyun is poised to catch the ball and score a touchdown, but the pass is intercepted and he’s roughly tackled into the grass. Chanyeol almost stands up, hoping that Baekhyun isn’t hurt, and lets out a relieved breath when Baekhyun gets up and roughly brushes himself off. The rivals have scored a touchdown.

The team gathers in a tight huddle after their loss and Chanyeol knows Baekhyun is giving them some kind of pep-talk. Something like: “ _We’ll do better next time; we just had a bad day. Get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow._ ”

Afterwards, Baekhyun is the last one on the field. He rips his helmet off and throws it towards the sidelines in frustration. He takes losses the hardest out of the team, feeling responsible for any bad plays, but he’s also the brightest when they win.

 

///

 

Chanyeol leans against the wall, around the corner from the football locker room, with his jacket slung over his shoulder. He waits as the disheartened players shuffle out of the building, one by one, until he’s sure there’s no one except Baekhyun left.

Chanyeol finds him sitting on a bench, still wearing all of his gear, save for the helmet occupying the space next to him. He’s hunched over, elbows on his knees and hands over his face, hair damp and dirt covering white fabric.

“Baek,” Chanyeol says, voice unintentionally lower than he’d meant.

Baekhyun jolts upright, but relaxes when he sees Chanyeol. “Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here, I was gonna come over in a bit,” he says weakly, assuming his hunched over position again.

Chanyeol tosses his jacket onto the bench and walks over to Baekhyun, squatting down in front of him. “Stop beating yourself up, there’s nothing you could’ve done.” He slides his hands onto Baekhyun’s thighs, then his arms, finally coming to a rest over Baekhyun’s hands. He rubs his thumbs over Baekhyun’s wrists and pries Baekhyun’s hands away from his face, holding them tightly in his own.

“I could’ve—” Baekhyun’s voice cracks slightly and he shakes his head, lower lip trembling slightly. “I could’ve done something. I’m the captain, I could’ve—”

“Shut up,” Chanyeol mumbles, leaning forward onto his knees so he’s between Baekhyun’s parted knees, but eye-level. “Everyone has bad days and you’re allowed to have them too,” he whispers, reaching up to brush Baekhyun’s sweaty bangs away from his eyes.

The sound Baekhyun makes is halfway between a groan and a whimper as he leans into Chanyeol’s hands, closing his eyes to savor the comfort. “You’re right,” he says after a moment, opening his eyes and reaching up to trace over Chanyeol’s forearms with a feather-light touch.

“Hm?” Chanyeol frowns slightly, unsure what he’s talking about.

“The tattoos. I like them.” He bends down to brush the tips of his lips over the corner of Chanyeol’s mouth. “A lot.” He slides off the bench, into Chanyeol’s lap, and places a moist, open-mouthed kiss on Chanyeol’s inky neck, hands pulling away from Chanyeol’s and tangling into his hair instead.

Chanyeol would laugh and say something along the lines of _I told you so_ , but he’s too busy running his hands up and down Baekhyun’s sides, slightly annoyed by the presence of the jersey. “Off,” he chokes out as Baekhyun flicks his tongue along Chanyeol’s tattooed collarbone.

He tugs at Baekhyun’s jersey and pulls it over his head, mussing up Baekhyun’s hair as he throws it behind them. The shoulder pads come off next and then their lips are attached as they hungrily nip at each other. Chanyeol presses his hands into Baekhyun’s bare back, relishing the way Baekhyun arches up against his chest.

“Take it off,” Baekhyun whispers, tugging at the collar of Chanyeol’s undershirt. Chanyeol obliges and quickly lets go of Baekhyun to tug his shirt over his head. As soon as the fabric is tossed across the bench, Chanyeol hooks his arms around Baekhyun’s waist and pulls him back onto his lap. Baekhyun groans quietly, beginning to slowly grind against the thigh slotted between his legs as Chanyeol traces his tongue along Baekhyun’s collarbone.

He whimpers when Chanyeol reaches his nipples, one pinched and rolled between his fingers and the other being sucked and pulled by his teeth. Baekhyun bucks harder against Chanyeol’s thigh, causing Chanyeol to lift his mouth off Baekhyun’s chest and chuckle quietly. His own length is hard against the outside of Baekhyun’s leg, which only serves to make Baekhyun drop his head to Chanyeol’s shoulder and move faster against his thigh, desperate for a release.

Chanyeol roughly grabs Baekhyun’s hips, stilling him and lifting him from his lap. “Naughty boy,” he growls, capturing Baekhyun’s lips in another bruising kiss and using the locker to stand. Baekhyun takes the opportunity to unbutton Chanyeol’s jeans and push them to the floor along with his boxers. Chanyeol kicks the garments away and lets out a low moan, grabbing a fistful of Baekhyun’s hair as Baekhyun spreads the leaking pre-cum over his shaft with a thumb.

Baekhyun quickly replaces his hands with his mouth, lips curling over Chanyeol’s cock and hands massaging the places his tongue can’t reach. Chanyeol lets out a strangled cry as Baekhyun swirls his tongue over the tip and gently pinches the inside of his thigh.

Chanyeol has to tug Baekhyun’s head away from his cock before he explodes. He can see the straining tent that has formed in Baekhyun’s pants as he licks Chanyeol’s pre-cum from his lips, panting slightly. Chanyeol reaches down and pulls Baekhyun off the ground, spinning them so Baekhyun’s back is pressed against the lockers.

“Strip,” he whispers, nibbling at Baekhyun’s jaw and fumbling with the elastic of Baekhyun’s football pants, eliciting a quiet moan. Baekhyun breaks away from Chanyeol for a moment to quickly get rid of the remaining fabric, leaving his almost painful arousal exposed. He reaches a hand down to stroke himself, desperate for some kind of friction, but Chanyeol quickly grabs both of his hands and holds them in one of his own above their heads.

“Not yet.” Chanyeol is smirking at Baekhyun, who is breathing hard, pupils dilated and cheeks pink. Baekhyun lets out a high pitched whine when Chanyeol reaches down to brush his thumb over the tip of Baekhyun’s straining cock, quickly pulling away when it twitches.

Baekhyun takes a moment to look over the inky lines over Chanyeol’s chest, intricate and utterly beautiful. He reaches out and slides a hand along Chanyeol’s collarbone, stopping at the small branch of sketched cherry blossoms. He wants Chanyeol to draw him one, something specially designed for him. He’d never been particularly keen on permanently marking his skin, but he doesn’t think he’d mind at all if it was Chanyeol’s doing.

Baekhyun is ripped away from his daydream when Chanyeol roughly spins him, so his cheek is pressed against the cold metal. Chanyeol runs a fingertip down Baekhyun’s spine, admiring Baekhyun’s small, yet muscled body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers and Baekhyun shivers.

“So are you,” Baekhyun responds, wishing he could see the milky expanse of Chanyeol’s body, covered in beautiful drawings. Chanyeol growls and wraps a hand around Baekhyun’s cock, slowly drawing his fist up and down while he ruts against the tight space between Baekhyun’s thighs.

Chanyeol strokes him faster now and Baekhyun is almost there, ready to explode. “ _Chanyeol_ ,” he moans, banging his forehead against the lockers. Chanyeol stops suddenly and pulls away, leaving Baekhyun shaking against the metal. “ _Please_ , Chanyeol.” He presses back against Chanyeol’s chest. “ _Please_ ,” he whimpers.

“Shit, Baek,” Chanyeol is trembling as he thrusts between Baekhyun’s thighs. “You’re so fucking hot.” He roughly twists his hand around Baekhyun’s cock, whispering _Come for me baby_ , over and over again, until both of them are squirting their cum over the lockers.

Chanyeol wraps an arm tightly around Baekhyun’s waist before Baekhyun can collapse, legs too weak to hold himself up without support. Chanyeol places a chaste kiss on Baekhyun’s shoulder and leads him to the shower stalls.

 

///

 

Baekhyun’s damp, fruity smelling, and slightly-curly-at-the-ends hair brushes against Chanyeol’s neck as they lay sprawled on the bed. “I almost forgot,” Chanyeol says, suddenly recalling his earlier trip to the corner store. He reaches over Baekhyun to grab the pair of jeans he’d been wearing earlier and slides the pack of gummy bears out of the pocket. “These are for you.”

Baekhyun smiles lazily and grabs the package from Chanyeol, ripping it open with his teeth and stuffing two red bears into his mouth. Some of the excess sugar sticks to his lips and Chanyeol reaches down to brush it off with a thumb. Baekhyun sighs contentedly and curls closer to Chanyeol, burying his nose against Chanyeol’s throat.

“Before you fall asleep though—” Chanyeol stretches out the arm that’s not wrapped around Baekhyun to grab a piece of paper from his bedside table. “One more thing.” Baekhyun reaches up to grab the paper and unfolds it.

It’s the design that Chanyeol’s been doodling on just about every empty space he’s found. It’s exceptionally simple for how many times he’s drawn it, and tiny too, but it’s perfect. It’s a pair of entangled heart lines—the ones you see on hospital monitors—that loop into a small infinity sign at the end. Baekhyun smiles. “It’s perfect,” Baekhyun breathes, tracing the drawing with his fingertip. “Will you do it for me?”

Chanyeol grins and nods, wrapping both arms tightly around Baekhyun’s waist and planting a kiss on his soft hair. “Of course. If you do mine?”

Baekhyun nods into Chanyeol’s neck. This all feels so permanent, but Baekhyun doesn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to get this long, but once i started, I couldn't stop. Hopefully this lives up to at least some of the expectations, although I don't think I could ever do justice to this AU.
> 
> part 2: [ home ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4352957)


End file.
